


Like Riding a Velocipede

by maniacalmole



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-25 23:38:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6214747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maniacalmole/pseuds/maniacalmole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because Aziraphale implies that he can ride a velocipede, how could I NOT write about that?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Riding a Velocipede

                “What on Earth is that?”

                As soon as he had finished speaking, Crowley dove out of the way of the two-wheeled monstrosity that had been careening towards him. He managed to land on a thick carpet of grass, one of the benefits of the fact that the angel still lived in the country; if they had been meeting at Crowley’s place in town, one of them would have been trampled by horses. Aziraphale, who had fallen from the wheeled apparatus, landed in a pile of mud, which would have happened either way.

                “So sorry, dear boy.” The angel pulled himself to his feet. Crowley had already stood up and was dusting himself off. There was not much Aziraphale could do about his own state. He gave the demon a nervous smile. “I haven’t quite got it figured out yet.”

                “I can see that.”

                “It’s a velocipede,” Aziraphale said brightly. “Jolly good invention, don’t you think?”

                Crowley assumed that since Aziraphale was aware of them, they must have been around for several years now, but he had been sleeping too much lately to notice. If this was what the second half of the nineteenth century had been doing in his absence, he thought he might as well go back to bed.

                Aziraphale had gotten back on the thing. The vehicle was composed of two wheels, one larger than the other, and a seat perched precariously in the middle of them, with pedals in the front. You had to spin the pedals with your legs the whole time, making you look like you were constantly about to fall over—or maybe he was only getting this impression because Aziraphale was the one riding it. The velocipede tipped, and the angel fell again.

                “What are you _doing_ on it?” Crowley asked.

                “I thought I could do with a better way of getting myself around. That way I don’t have to keep writing to you to do things just because they’re more than a day’s walk away.”

                “It’s all part of our Arrangement,” Crowley said, standing clear back this time as Aziraphale climbed aboard the velocipede again. “Speaking of, can we get to what we’re meeting for, please?” He’d only had seven decades of sleep, and he really functioned better on eight.

                “Of course, of course.” The angel was going around in circles now. He was making divots in the little country road. “Goodness, I think I’ve got it!”

                He promptly fell over. He righted the velocipede, propped it up against a tree, and walked over to Crowley. “You really ought to find some means of personal transport, you know.”

                “I’m proud of public transport,” Crowley said defensively. “I’ve put a lot of work into most of the systems, and I like to check up from time to time. Make sure things aren’t running smoothly.” He was mostly glad that he was no longer expected to ride a horse everywhere.

                “You might enjoy the velocipede.” The angel pulled out a handkerchief, looked at his mud-soaked clothes, and sighed. “It goes rather faster than I would like, but that seems like just your sort of thing.”

                “Let me know when they come up with self-powered ones, and maybe I’ll be interested.”

                “A two-wheeled vehicle with a motor running it?” Aziraphale dabbed his face with his handkerchief. “I do hope no one will ever see _me_ atop such a contraption.”*

               (*No one ever did. They could only _see_ Madame Tracy.)

                “If they made it a bit more stable,” the demon mused, his eyes glowing, “they could put an engine in it. Now _that’d_ be fast.”

                “It would also look completely ridiculous,” Aziraphale said. “Imagine, a horseless carriage, barreling down the streets of London. Pedestrians leaping out of the way to safety.”

                Crowley grinned. The angel frowned at him anxiously.

                “All right,” he said, “let’s get on with our business, shall we?”

                As they walked towards the house, the angel looked back wistfully.

                “I hope I don’t lose all of the progress I’ve made while I’m gone….”

                “On that thing?” Crowley smirked. “Oh, I don’t think it’s something you’ll forget.”


End file.
